It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn
by always-the-ninja
Summary: Natasha has a hard time coping after the Battle of Manhattan, reminding Clint of a certain mission in Budapest.


**AN**: Here's some things you should know

**This is going to be a multi-chap fic**

**Things in _Italics_ are flashbacks**

**This is my first fanfiction**

**Chapters will get longer**

**Sorry for any mistakes!**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated!**

It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn

_I like to keep some things to myself_

_I like to keep my issues drawn_

_It's always darkest before the dawn_

_- Florence and the Machine; Shake It Out_

* * *

"Where to next?" Clint questioned Natasha as he slid into the car.

"I don't know?" Natasha mumbled her barely audible response. She had seemed quieter to Clint lately. Not with the team, of course, but when they were alone she rarely talked to him.

"What's going on with you, Nat?"

"Nothing, I'm just tired. Saving the world can do that to you." He was suspicious that she was lying, but he didn't think that badgering the truth out of her would do much good now. "Could you just take me home?"

"Sure." Clint responded as he started the car.

The two assassins rode silently through New York. By the time Clint pulled up to her upper-west side apartment building, Natasha had dozed off against her window.

"We're here Nat," Clint gentle shook Natasha awake, careful not to trigger her automatic response to unwanted touch.

"What?" Natasha asked groggily.

"You're home."

"Oh, thanks." Natasha replied in an unusually shaky voice, further confirming to Clint that something was not right.

"Call if you need anything."

"I will." They both knew she wouldn't, but the aftermath of recent events had once again put them into the stage of pretending everything was fine. Natasha stepped out of the car and walked coolly into her building. Clint knew better that to linger with the false hope that she might turn back, she never had before. And so, he drove off down the crowded New York street. As he did so Natasha turned, hoping that he would be waiting as she knew he had done so many times before, but as she face the door she found herself looking out upon an empty street, Clint was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Natasha was practically sleepwalking by the time she reached the elevator. It had been a rough week for her and she was beyond exhaustion. She knew that Clint had figured out something was wrong, but she was too tired to care. She couldn't remember the last time a mission had taken this much of a toll on her, it must have been Budapest. But even then, she had Clint to help her. God, she wished he were here right now. No, she would not let those thoughts enter her mind, she had to be strong, and she had to learn to heal without the help of her partner. As she entered her dark apartment a lone tear rolled down her cheek, she quickly wiped away, she never knew who could be watching. Weakness was not an option.

* * *

The further Clint drove away from Natasha's building the more he was regretting leaving her alone. She needed him, he knew that much. He also knew that she would never admit it, and that going back could harm their partnership. Clint figured that it wasn't worth going back to his apartment just yet, and so, he continued driving. He was not quite sure where he was going, but he just knew that he had to get away before he did something stupid, he wouldn't let this end up like Budapest, they were both too fragile for that. In some ways Natasha was right about this being like Budapest, but then again she couldn't remember most of what had happened there.

_The mission in Budapest had started out just like any other. Clint and Natasha were supposed to go to a gala in order to assassinate a bioterrorist posing as a doctor. They checked into their hotel, one much grander than they were used to._

"_I could get used to this," Clint exclaimed._

"_Focus Clint!" Natasha replied._

"_Come on Tasha, you know you don't have to be serious all the time."_

"_We're on a mission!"_

"_That doesn't mean you can't admire the scenery."_

_Before she could respond, Clint lunged at her grabbing at her sides as she writhed with laughter while falling onto the bed._

"_Clint! Stop it! See I'm smiling now you can let go now!"_

"_And what if I don't want to?" He had stopped tickling and now his hands were placed on her hips. The two assassins were now face to face, staring into each other's eyes. Clint gently rested his for head against Natasha's. Slowly, he pressed his lips against hers; she kissed back and then softly pulled away, giggling as she did so._

"_Did the infamous Black Widow just giggle?" Natasha playfully hit him as she pushed herself up off the bed._

"_Come on we should get ready, the gala's in an hour." Natasha announced making her way towards the bathroom._

"_So we're back to serious now, and here I was thinking we'd made progress." Clint joked._

Clint almost smiled as he recalled the beginning of the mission, but it wasn't long until he crashed back into reality and remembered why he was thinking about Budapest in the first place.


End file.
